


neither onion nor cake nor parfait

by multicorn



Series: blaine/therapy otp [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Depression, Episode Related, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multicorn/pseuds/multicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Blaine goes to therapy.  And he has a lot of feelings.  But there's space for them, there.  (Includes neutral-to-positive mention of Blainofsky.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	neither onion nor cake nor parfait

**Author's Note:**

> Also [here](http://the-multicorn.tumblr.com/post/107860354490/fic-neither-onion-nor-cake-nor-parfait) on tumblr.

Excerpts from the practice of Preeti Sidana, MD.  From the treatment of Blaine Devon Anderson, 19 years old.  Intake date: 7/14/2014.  Diagnosis: Bipolar II Disorder.  
  
~  
  
"Do you have any family history of mental illness?"  
  
Blaine laughs, though not with much humor - she guesses he'll be doing a lot of that.  "Not that I knew of, until just now.  But apparently my mother's been coming here since I was eight.  So why don't you tell me."  
  
~  
  
"Have you ever experienced symptoms like this before?"  
  
"I think... twice," Blaine says, slowly.  It's not unusual for patients to struggle with this part, with reassessing their past.  "I never thought of them as symptoms.  But.  Once my senior year of high school, when my boyfriend - my ex-fiancé - went to New York City and forgot about me, and then broke up with me.  And then - once in my freshman year of high school, before I transferred schools to Dalton Academy - wait, isn't this in my medical record?"  
  
~  
  
"Have you ever sought psychiatric treatment before?"  
  
"Define 'sought,'" Blaine says.  Then, "no."  His fingers move on the arms of the chair, but she doesn't say anything, just waits patiently to see if he'll continue.  "My parents sent me to a therapist for a little while after - I mean, before Dalton."  
  
~  
  
"You mentioned a boyfriend, and an ex-fiancé.  Are those the same person?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And are you seeing him now?"  
  
"I haven't even - I haven't talked to him.  Since he broke up with me, I will add," he says, with some heat, "completely by surprise.  Just over two months ago now.  So, no."  
  
~  
  
"Would you like to tell me about your life?"  
  
"Is no an option?"  
  
"No is always an option."  
  
She sees the deep breath he lets out, then, the way that his shoulders relax, and makes a note in her head.  Be careful with this one.  
  
~  
  
"So, Blaine.  Let's try this again."  She moves her chair closer to him; some of her patients prefer space, but he's been sliding closer this whole time.  "Why did you come to see me?"  
  
"Probably because I failed out of school," he says, "and now I spend all day holed up in my room."  The bitterness that curdles his voice, the pain on his face, is palpable; she wishes she could fix it, fix it for all of them, but psychiatry isn't magic.  Every person that she sees has to do the work themselves; all she can do is help.  
  
"Do you want to go back to school?" she asks.  
  
"I don't know."  A self-deprecating shrug.  "I don't know much of anything, anymore."  
  
"That's fine," she says, soothingly.  "You don't have to have anything figured out right now.  I'm here to help."  
  
"Thanks," he says, with the first real smile she's seen on his face.  
  
~  
  
"So what do you like to do?" she asks.  
  
"Music," he says, with a little bounce, and he immediately seems more relaxed.  "I sing, I play the piano, I dance - and just a little bit of harmonica - I was picking up the guitar, again, for a little while in New York, but then, I, um, stopped."  
  
"That's good," she praises him, "wow, that's a lot of things, that's impressive," and he ducks his head.  Hiding, then; so, okay, maybe not so much with the praise.  She tries a slightly different tack - "so have you been playing lately?"  
  
"No," he says, looking down at his hands, turning them over, looking almost surprised at himself.  "No," he repeats, "I haven't felt much like it, lately."  
  
"Well, maybe you should try that again," she says.  
  
"Yeah," he says, a determined glint in his eyes.  "Yeah.  I should."  
  
~  
  
"You don't talk about about people much," she says.  "Can you tell me about your friends?  Your family?"  
  
"My family doesn't talk much," he says.  "And my friends...."  
  
"Yes?" she prods, once it becomes clear that he's trailed off.  
  
"They don't want to talk to me," he bursts out.  "For a while, after Kurt broke up with me, even after I failed out of school, they'd keep calling me, and texting me, and sending me messages on Facebook.  But I haven't heard from any of them in weeks."  
  
"Do you have any idea as to why that might be?" she asks, tone carefully neutral, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
"Probably because I never picked up," he says, "or answered any of their messages.  But - still - "  
  
"Still?" she asks.  Best to keep him talking; she can't do nearly as much for him as he can do for himself.  
  
"I thought we'd still be friends," he says.  He looks hurt, desperate, but more than anything, lonely, and she has to fight down the urge to give him a motherly hug.  Even if he could benefit from one - some people, she knows, can - it's not exactly professional.  
  
"I'm sure they are still your friends," she says.  "But they most likely don't understand depression - most people don't.  They probably think that you don't want to talk to them anymore.  So if you do - you can get your friends back, but you'll have to let them know."  
  
"I don't know if I can do that," he says, miserably.  
  
"Well, you don't have to do it now, if you're not feeling up to it.  I'm sure they'll still want to hear from you later - whenever _you're_ ready."  
  
~  
  
"I tried playing music again," he says.  Confesses - it sounds like 'confesses.'  "I couldn't find my heart."  
  
And then he goes on, faster and ever more garbled, and she tries to make heads or tails of the things he says after that, but he somehow ends up weeping, face in both hands, slid down to sit on the floor in front of his usual chair.  
  
"What if I never find it again?" he asks.  She offers him some suggestions, crouching there too on the floor, until he looks up and begins to seem more responsive, more alive.  
  
~  
  
"It's important to allow yourself to feel your feelings," she says at the end of that session, "even if they hurt.  But you're already making progress, and you will feel better soon.  I know you will," she says.  
  
He says, "I'm sorry," and she thinks it's not just for the tears on her office carpet.  But for not being there yet, and she doesn't know a way to tell him so that he'll believe it, but there's nothing to be sorry for there.  
  
"It's fine," she says with a smile, "really.  All of it is.  That's what I'm here for.  And I look forward to seeing you again next week."  
  
~  
  
"He didn't even recognize me," Blaine says, and this time the anger is back.  
  
"Wait, who?" she asks, confused, and pushes her glasses back up her nose.  
  
"Sam," he says, lips twisted, face crumpled.  "My best friend.  Or - he was - "  
  
"What happened, exactly?" she asks.  
  
"I changed up my style, and went out without my hair gel - like you told me to - " he adds, accusingly.  
  
  
"I suggested it," she interjects, mildly.  She doesn't mind, personally, but it's not good for anyone to keep or develop the habit of displacing blame.  
  
"And when I ran into him at the Lima Bean - I even said 'it's me, Blaine!' - he didn't remember who I was!" Blaine fumes.  
  
"I'm sure he didn't forget you," she replies.  "But, like you said, you looked different from how you usually do.  Plus, he probably wasn't expecting to see you in Lima at all.  Didn't you tell me that you haven't talked to him since you were living in New York?"  
  
"Yeah," Blaine admits.  "That's true.  Hmmm."  
  
"You really shouldn't worry or feel bad," she says, "we're all bad at recognizing people sometimes.  Like when we're not expecting them, or when they change something major about their appearance like their haircut, and it sounds like you did both at once.  I'm sure he still wants to be your friend, he just honestly didn't recognize you.  You'll just have to try again."  
  
~  
  
"I went out last night," Blaine says.  He seems uncertain, tucked in on himself, and she considers the possible reasons.  
  
"Did it go well?" she asks first.  
  
"Yeah."  He blushes.  
  
Then... "are you afraid to tell me because you went to a bar, and you're underage?  I promise, I won't judge."  
  
"Okay," he says, and smiles - it's good to see it, not so rare now - and uncurls in his seat.  "I went to Scandals - it's a gay bar," he adds, unnecessarily, she knows all the bars in this town, "and I ran into this guy there."  
  
"And?" she prompts.  
  
"And - it's kind of weird?  Please don't think I'm weird, I don't know."  
  
"What is?" she asks.  
  
"The first time I met him, he was bullying another gay kid.  Kurt.  And it was really bad, a really messed up situation.  But he's changed?  He's like a different person, now, since - it was a few years ago, when we first met - "  
  
"I see why you're asking," she says, "and yeah, maybe it's unusual - but if it doesn't feel weird to you, then I think it's okay.  Unless - how is he treating you?"  
  
"Well, we're not dating yet," Blaine says, "I mean, we're not dating, at all, we're just friends.  Just hanging out.  But he's a cool guy, now - to everyone, not just to me - I wouldn't be spending time with him if he weren't."  
  
"Okay," she says, nodding.  "It's good that you're doing something you enjoy, and connecting with people again.  Just - try to be careful, okay?  And tell me if anything changes."  
  
~  
  
"You've improved a lot since we started working together," she says, "and it's almost fall.  Have you thought about what you might want to do after the summer ends?"  
  
"Oh!" he says, sitting up straighter.  "I forgot to tell you, but.  I actually got a job for this school year, coaching my old high school glee club, the Warblers!"  He's more excited, more animated, now, then she's ever seen him before, and some instinct makes her want to clap.  
  
"That's great!" she says, instead, warmly.  "Would you like to tell me about them?"  
  
That's the first session she has with him that ever runs over time.  
  
~  
  
"So how are things going," she asks, carefully, "with that guy you met at Scandals?"  
  
"Oh!  Um, Dave," he says, with a quiet little smile.  "We're dating now.  So, good."  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks.  
  
"Not really."  He shrugs.  "Which isn't to say - you shouldn't worry about it.  It's good, it's comfortable.  I just don't have much to say."  
  
~  
  
"My old friend Rachel is back in town," Blaine says.  "She put up a notice on Facebook saying that she wants to see all of us, and if anyone's around, they should contact her."  
  
"And how do you feel about that?"  
  
"I don't know," Blaine says, "... jealous.  How come she can ask for things like that, and why can't I?"  
  
"Well, you can if you want to," she says, but he shakes his head.  
  
"No," he says, "even if anyone did respond, they'd think that I'm an attention whore."  
  
"Well, they don't think that of Rachel, do they?"  
  
He laughs, unexpectedly.  "They totally do!  Everyone does.  She doesn't mind, I think.  She's braver than I am, that way."  
  
"Oh," she says, a bit taken aback.  The better Blaine's been doing, lately, the more he's been able to surprise her.  
  
"I think I might go, though," Blaine says.  
  
"Then I think you definitely should."  
  
"But I'm not sure," he continues.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because - I don't know if she wants to see me.  She never even tried to contact me, after Kurt and I broke up.  But she had already moved to L.A. by that point, and her TV pilot had already failed, and she kinda fell off the map.  But then, again, she's Kurt's best friend..."  
  
"That sounds like a lot of factors to consider," she says, "but why don't you forget about them, and just try it and see?  If you want to see her, anyway - the worst she can do is say no."  
  
"Okay," Blaine says, and she can hear the grit in his teeth, in his voice, and she's so proud of him.  "I think I'll do exactly that.  I'm ready to take a chance."  
  



End file.
